Reflections In Glass
by Sharma Wild
Summary: Set in 2010 before Jack leaves Riverport: After having found his brother shot, Jack Joyce realises that time might not be as linear as he thought it was, as he teams up with a future version of Paul Serene in an attempt to find the blueprints to the Countermeasure before they fall into the wrong hands. (Jack/Paul. This story contains violent and explicit situations.)
1. Chapter 1

Quantum Break is a story of branching timelines, of choices and the impact those choices have on the story and the characters within it. Drawing inspiration from that, and from the idea of multi-verses, I have created my own alternate time line. I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: Quantum Break belongs to Remedy. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

WILL'S WORKSHOP, 6 OF FEBRUARY 2010, RIVERPORT, MASSACHUSETTS

"I want more", Paul said.

"More what?" Will asked, breathing out a trail of fragrant smoke.

The dark-haired young man shrugged. "More of everything."

Jack watched them both. They were sitting in Will's workshop in an old warehouse down by the docks. Scattered around them was enough high-tech equipment and cabling for two mad scientists, with enough to spare to furnish a Bond villain's lair.

At age twenty Paul was already dressing as the young hotshot businessman he would soon be in designer jeans, expensive Converse sneakers and an Armani suit-jacket over his red Night Springs Tee. Only Jack knew that the sneakers were knockoffs and the fancy jacket was stolen from a rack outside that expensive Second Hand store down at River Av. The jeans were real though. Paul had worked extra at McKing's Burger Joint for months and saved every cent of his meagre pay so he could afford to buy them.

Will was wearing the standard uniform of nerdy brainiacs everywhere: chinos, no-brand sneakers and a T-shirt sporting a picture of a sheep framed by the words: DON'T BE A BAA SAYER under a faded flannel shirt. It was hard to believe but his scruffy looking brother was a bona fide genius, and at age 32 was considered for the Nobel Prize for his discovery of the Meyer-Joyce field and the Chronon particle.

Jack, equally scruffy-looking, but much less of a genius, took a swallow of the half-bottle of cheap scotch they were sharing before passing it to Paul.

"What do you want out of life?" Paul asked him, taking a sip and almost sneering at the harsh taste.

Jack shrugged. "I don't know. Better tasting booze maybe?"

Paul sniggered and nearly chocked on the scotch. "This is pretty fucking awful, isn't it", he managed after having coughed and wheezed for a bit. "Why do we always end up drinking stuff that taste like paint-thinner?"

"Because it's easier to steal than the high-end bottles they keep behind the counter?" Jack flashed a grin.

"You stole it?" Will asked asked around his hand-rolled 'herbal' fag, his eyes widening a little as he met his younger brother's gaze. "Stealing is wrong, Jacky."

The boy flashed that too charming grin again. "Only if you get caught."

"Which you will sooner or later."

"No I won't."

"You will", William insisted. "I wrote a program and based on your IQ, your personality and your physical fitness, I can predict-

"I'm not your damn lab-rat!" Jack glared at his brother. "And I won't get caught."

Will's shoulders slumped a little. "Alright..." He said, his voice softening a little. "If you say so. Just please be careful."

The fact that Will gave in to him just made Jack even more angry. You should tell me to stop! He thought furiously. You should have told me to stay in school and keep my nose clean. You should have taken care of me after our parents died instead of burying yourself in whatever fucking project you're working on! But he said nothing, simply accepted the bottle when Paul handed it back to him and took a long draught.

"So, what is all this?" Paul asked, gesturing at the computers and equipment connected to an octagonal, no doubt high tech and very expensive-looking doohickey that was surrounded by what looked like a make-shift maintenance walkway, and completely dominated the workshop.

"A time machine."

Paul's dark blue eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." Will gave him that little half-grin that was so like his younger brother's. "Well, it is in theory anyway. I haven't been able to get it to work properly yet, but I came close once. 1999. I had built a working prototype and I would have succeeded, but when the core came online there was a sudden flux of energy and the damn thing blew every fuse in the place."

It wasn't just the workshop that had been effected, Jack thought dryly. Ten years later people still talked about the Big Blackout of '99 and how a train had derailed at the same time as a cargo-ship had crashed into Riverport bridge, nearly causing a catastrophe. Had Will even noticed? Or if he had, did he care?

"So, you've been working on this for ten years?" Paul asked.

Will nodded. "Yup. The University is breathing down my neck. All I need is a bit more time and I'm sure I could get it to work."

"That's ironic."

Will's smile widened a little, wiping away some of the tired lines around his mouth and eyes. "Yeah, I guess it is."

"So, how does time travelling work?" Paul asked, his eyes going back to the machine.

"You know Einstein's theory of relativity?"

"Kinda. I mean, I know about it but I don't quite grasp it-"

"Forget it completely", Will said, his eyes sparkling with that intense light that was always there when he spoke about physics and his work. "Einstein was only partially right. You see, time is like an egg-"

Jack rolled his eyes. Once his brother started down the Yellow Brick road to Quantum Physics-ville there would be no stopping him. "I'm going to get something to eat", he announced, pushing off the crate he had been sitting on. As he headed towards the exit he could hear Will's voice behind him:

"Imagine a man in an empty room. He puts an egg on a table."

"I thought you said the room was empty", Paul's voice wafted through the warehouse.

"The room doesn't matter. What matters is the egg. It's broken and not broken at the same time. Schrodinger's egg! That's how you travel in time!"

"Jesus..." Jack muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "There really isn't a line between genius and madness with you, Will, is there?" He pushed the heavy door open and stepped outside into the cold, grey February afternoon. Dark clouds blocked out most of the pale light, heavy with the promise of rain.

Turning his back on the warehouses, Jack headed down the street that would lead him to the bridge that had so nearly been destroyed ten years ago, and towards Lucky Joe's pub that lay on the edge of the water in its shadow.

"Hey! Wait up, Jack!"

The sound of sneakers slapping against the wet pavement made him throw a glance over his shoulder to see Paul come running down the street, his neatly combed dark hair already curling in the damp air. It would only be a matter of minutes before he would start to comb through it with his fingers in failed attempts to smooth it back and end up looking more like the punk he was instead of the neat and proper Business School student he pretended to be.

"Why do you do that?" Jack asked when Paul had caught up with him. "Why do you get him started on his crackpot theories?"

"His theories has been proven true so far. Well, most of them anyway", Paul added, remembering the long-winded and confusing explanation of how time travelling was either like an egg or a doughnut, but it had to be either one, Will had insisted. It couldn't be both. "Okay, so maybe his ideas doesn't always comes across as firmly rooted in logic, but I don't think they nominate crackpots for the Nobel Prize."

"I wouldn't be so sure." Jack shoved his hands into his pockets. He glanced at his friend. "I'm sorry about this. When Will invited us to the workshop to celebrate you going to New York, I really thought he would deliver. But as usual he forgot."

Paul smiled. "I don't mind. I mean, what other intern at Leland-Angus can claim they've seen a real time machine?"

Jack returned the smile, his chest burning with an almost fierce love. Paul always knew what to say, what to do, to make him feel... well, better. He and his family had been there after Kathryn and Anthony Joyce's death when Will had simply disappeared into his own world of Quantum Physics, leaving the then ten year old Jack to deal with the aftermath and shock of losing both parents on his own.

He clasped a hand on Paul's shoulder. "C'mon, Moneybags, let's get a couple of cheeseburgers and those thick fries you like. My treat."

o O o

LUCKY JOE'S WAS a Riverport landmark. With an eight foot lobster resting on the roof, the diner was hard to miss even with the bridge towering over it.

Jack and Paul stepped into the warm, comforting smells of fried food, slightly stale beer and cigarette smoke.

Ruling this kingdom of steamed clams, fried codfish, burgers and steakhouse fries was Joseph McGillen, grandson of the original Lucky Joe who had opened the diner in the 50's. As always, he was manning the deep-fryer and grill in the kitchen while chain-smoking Lucky Strikes, leaving the counter to his wife, Ellen. She looked the two young men up and down as they approached the mahogany counter that spoke of better days long since passed.

"You got money, I hope. 'Cause neither of you look trustworthy enough to get a tab."

"We can pay." Jack pulled out a couple of crumpled up dollar-bills and pushed them over the counter. "Two cheeseburgers with steakhouse fries. Oh, make that three burgers", he added.

"You feeling extra hungry?" Paul asked.

Jack shook his head. "It's for Will. God only knows the last time he ate something that didn't come out of a tinfoil bag."

A smile touched the dark-haired young man's face. "You're a good brother, you know that?"

Jack ducked his head, uncomfortable with the praise. "I'm not."

"You want something to drink while you wait?" Ellen asked, having shouted the order to her husband.

Paul flashed her a charming smile. "Beer, thanks."

"Beer?" Ellen scoffed. "I'll serve you a beer on the house the day you turn twenty-one, Paul Serene and not a day before. You get a coke." She turned those gimlet eyes that managed to be warm and friendly and hard as steel at the same time to Jack. "What about you, son?"

"Yeah, I'll have a coke too, thanks."

"How's that brother of yours doing?" She asked, placing a bottle each on napkins in front of them. "He used to come in here all the time a couple of months back. Drove me crazy the way he used to scribble on napkins, coaster and even the counter top at one point."

"Will's good. He might be getting a Nobel Prize next year", Jack replied, wishing she would leave them alone. This was after all Paul's last night in Riverport. Tomorrow he would be getting on a plane and flying to New York for an internship at one of the most prestigious investment firms in the country. A part of Jack wanted to go with him.

"A Nobel Prize... Fancy that. You must be so proud."

He nodded and gave the required I-sure-am reply, and then, after having given them both that almost professionally motherly smile, Ellen turned her attention to other customers coming in through the door.

"You know you can come with me to New York, right?" Paul said quietly as if having read his mind. "I could tie you over until you find a job-"

"I can't", Jack replied with true regret. "Will need someone to keep an eye on him." It was an answer Paul must have known he would get, but it still meant something that he asked. Hell, it meant the world, Jack thought, meeting that almost sapphire blue gaze. There was a sparkle in them, a heat that made his breath quicken and his pulse race. He unconsciously wetted his lips. "I..."

A paper bag sporting Lucky Joe's lobster-logo was plunked down on the counter, interrupting the moment. If it had been a moment at all and not just Jack imagining it. "Three cheeseburgers and two steakhouse fries. I made them extra large. Free of charge." Ellen gave them a smile.

"Thanks, Mrs. McGillen." Jack took the change she handed him in exchange for his bills and put them in an old pickles jar bearing a handwritten sign stating that 'Tipping is not a city in China'. Grabbing the bag of food, they exited the warm restaurant, burying their chins into the collars of their jacket as the icy air hit them.

"It's fucking freezing", Paul complained, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat. "C'mon, let's get back to Will's before the food goes completely cold."

o O o

THEY WERE ACROSS the street from the warehouse when Jack looked up and noticed the distorted rectangle of light spilling out through the open door. He frowned. Will was much too paranoid to just leave it open like that. A first stutter of fear ran through him as he picked up the pace and hurried across the street with Paul following a step behind.

They were just outside the door when a gunshot rang out followed by another.

"Will!" Jack dropped the bag, dodged Paul's attempt to grab him and rushed into the warehouse. The scene that met him on the other side of the door seemed to defy reality. Red light rippled through the workshop, reflecting and shattering in something that looked like shards of glass floating inside an oily corona that seemed to bend the atmosphere itself. The smell of copper and burnt hair hung heavy in the thick air and sparks seemed to be flying off everything hooked up to electricity.

"What the fuck..." Paul's voice echoed hollowly behind him in the strangely empty atmosphere. Jack raised his hand, trying to touch one of the shards but it simply burst into fragments of light.

"What happened here?"

"The time machine!" Paul shouted and his voice sounded like a tinny echo of itself. He pointed at the structure with the large core in the centre. "Someone's activated it. That must be what's causing this." He turned to Jack, his eyes wide with wonder. "Do you know what this means? Time travelling! We could fix things... stop things from going wrong! Stop 9/11!"

Jack pushed past him, the time machine completely forgotten as his gaze fell on the figure laying on his back in a pool of blood. "Oh God... Will..."

The echo of footsteps made him look up just in time to see a man in a dark T-shirt back away before being lost somewhere in the darkness beyond the time machine. Then that strange bubble shattered and air and sound seemed to rush in, filling up the empty void. Jack heard the almost sharp, slamming noise made by his boots as he ran up the two wide steps to where his brother lay surrounded by flickering computer screens and equipment.

He fell to his knees, not noticing that the dark blood started soaking into his jeans as he frantically searched for a pulse on Will's neck. Then he exhaled in a rush as he felt a weak beating against the tips of his fingers.

Will's closed eyes fluttered open. "J-Jacky... T-the machine..."

"Don't speak." Jack pressed his hand against the wound in his brother's chest, feeling hot blood bubble up between his fingers.

"H-have to..." Will managed, his hand flopping weakly beside him as he tried to reach for his younger brother. "Have to save the future, Jack..."

Jack stared into William's eyes, the same summer sky hue as is own. "Stay with me, Will! Keep your eyes open and keep breathing!" Somewhere in the distance he could hear Paul call 911, his voice thin and shaky as he shouted at them that there had been a shooting and they had to send an ambulance.

The hours that followed was a blur of red and blue light, of grim-faced police officers and doctors. Of questions: Where were you when you heard the shots? How many shots did you hear? Did you see someone leave the place? Do you know if your brother have any enemies?

Jack answered in a clipped tone of voice, barely paying attention to what he was saying. He had Paul had been across the street. He'd heard two shots. No, Will had no enemies aside from some jealous physicists who's theories he'd proven wrong. As for what he'd seen... That's where it became complicated. He had no idea what the hell he had seen.

How did he explain the weird bubble or whatever it had been, or that strange glass-shard effect? The feeling that somehow reality had been shattered like a mirror. There really wasn't anything he could say without coming across as crazy. As for the other question, he answered it as truthfully as he could: Yes, he'd seen someone running away from Will. A man. He'd only seen the back of him; dark hair, jeans and a dark T-shirt... There had been something vaguely familiar about the him. Something he couldn't quite put his fingers on.

Once the police had left, Jack just sat there on the worn lumpy couch in Riverport's General Hospital's waiting area, completely numb and empty. He was vaguely aware of Paul's parents showing up, moving in and out of his field of vision. Judith gave him a hug while Philip patted him on the shoulder and told him that the doctors were doing everything they could. And at the same time as the world was just a dull fog, he was acutely aware of Paul not leaving his side other than to get them both some coffee that tasted like burnt tar.

"You should go", he said, surprised at how normal he sounded. "Your plane is leaving in an hour and-"

Paul leaned forward, putting his hand on Jack's. "I'm staying. I'll call Mr. Wayland and tell him what's happened."

"You have to go", Jack said almost sternly. "This is your big chance to create the life you want. You can't give that up."

"Jack..."

"Go." Jack pulled his hand free and blinked away the tears that was suddenly clouding his vision. "Go to New York, Paul. For the both of us."

For a moment he thought Paul would refuse, choose to stay in Riverport, then he pulled him close, giving him a hard hug. "God, I'm so sorry, Jack..." His voice was hoarse, rough almost, and Jack closed his eyes, burying his face in the crook of Paul's neck, breathing in that warm smell that was as familiar as his own, allowing himself a moment's comfort. "I wish there was something I could do..." Paul pulled back so he could look into Jack's blue eyes, a couple of shades lighter than his own. "I'll call you as soon as I get there", he promised, pressing their foreheads together for what seemed a brief second. Then he was gone, almost as if he had disappeared in the blink of an eye, and Jack was sitting there alone, holding a now cold cup of bitter coffee, waiting for the doctors to tell him if his brother was going to live or not.

And an ugly part of him, a part he pretended he didn't have, hoped Will would die. Because that would mean that Jack was free. Free to leave Riverport. Free to do what Paul was doing, to create a future instead of having to spend his life taking care of Will and making sure he didn't completely lose himself in his own world of delusions and paranoia.

When a doctor dressed in blue scrubs approached him he climbed unsteadily to his feet.

"You're brother's going to be fine", she said, giving him a smile. "It was touch and go for awhile and he's lost a lot of blood but..."

Jack didn't hear the rest of it, her voice drowned in the hard sobs shaking him. And has he buried his face in his hands, he wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed.

* * *

A/N: So, we're off on another adventure. :)

I wasn't planning on writing another long fanfiction story but after having played Quantum Break the idea for Reflections In Glass wouldn't leave me alone. I have some idea of where this is going and I feel sure that I can pull it off, hopefully without having to take too long between updates. My plan is to get a chapter up once a week but I can't make any promises.

Reviews are much appreciated and might prompt me to write faster. :D


	2. Chapter 2

Quantum Break is a story of branching timelines, of choices and the impact those choices have on the story and the characters within it. Drawing inspiration from that, and from the idea of multi-verses, I have created my own alternate time line. I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: Quantum Break belongs to Remedy. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

RIVERPORT GENERAL HOSPITAL, 8 FEBRUARY 2010. 6:45 A.M. RIVERPORT, MASSACHUSETTS

"No", Will whispered in a weak tone of voice. "I didn't see what he looked like."

Detective Mahoney, sitting in the chair next to the bed, made a note. "So you have no idea who shot you or why?"

"The time machine started", Will said in that weak, hoarse voice. "He must have come from the future."

"Will..." Jack rubbed a hand over his tired eyes.

"The... time machine?" Mahoney looked at William as if he had grown a second head. "So, you believe you were shot by someone from the future? Maybe I should come back when you're feeling better, Mr Joyce." The chair scraped against the floor as he pushed it back, then came a creak of relief as the man eased his heavy body onto his feet.

"Way to go, Will", Jack muttered after the door had closed behind the detective. "The police will think you're either insane or on drugs, or both."

"I know what happened. The time machine became active and it worked! Someone came through, Jack! There is someone from the future here in Riverport!"

"Do you even hear yourself?" Jack asked, anger making his voice hard.

"I only got a glimpse of him", Will continued as if Jack hadn't spoken at all. "He kept... shifting... as if he could move within the Meyer-Joyce field itself. No, not only move, he could _manipulate_ it."

"For God's sake!" Jack all but shouted. "Someone almost killed you and all you can talk about is that fucking machine! You're delusional, Will!"

"You were there", his brother said stubbornly. "You saw it too. The ripple-effect. You have to go back to the workshop, Jack. Get my laptop and download the logs from the core. Then I can prove to you that I'm right, that I'm not just imagining things."

"I can't go back there!" Distress started to bleed through the anger. "You can't ask that of me."

"I have to. Don't you understand?" Will's eyes had taken on that feverish gleam that Jack had come to hate. "This could be the breakthrough I've been needing to make the university give me more time and another grant." He grabbed Jack's hand, giving it a squeeze. "Please, Jack..."

Jack felt his shoulders slump and the fight go out of him. I'm leaving Riverport, he thought, meeting his brother's gaze. As soon as he's back on his feet and out of the hospital, I'll go. And I'm not coming back. "Yeah, alright", he mumbled. "I'll go tonight."

Will gave him a bright smile. "Thank you, Jack, thank you. I won't forget this. Once I can prove that the machine works everything will change. Literally."

Jack stopped listening. Ignoring Will's crazy was something he'd gotten a lot of practice of after their parent's death. Before the car accident, Will had been seen as one of Riverport's stars. A genius who'd sailed through high school, who'd chosen to remain at the local university instead of heading off to MIT or Cal Tech. And the university had rewarded him, given him everything he wanted. He had put them on the map. Riverport U had gone from a small, backwaters place to be the centre of new cutting-edge science. Will had been nineteen when he'd proven the existence of the Chronon-particle. At age twenty-two he'd headed his own research department. Now, eleven years later, he was considered a has-been, a genius who had burnt his candle in both ends.

The death of their parents had made Will lose all structure in his life, had pushed him into a downwards spiral that had ended with him having to be forcibly removed from the campus and permanently locked out of what just a year earlier had been his lab.

It had gone downhill after that. And Jack had been the one who'd been force to deal with it. To make sure the bills got paid, that there was food in the fridge, that his brother ate and showered. It had been like living with a ghost; a ghost who shuffled around the house wearing nothing but boxers and one sock while mumbling to the voices in his head.

Jack swallowed past the lump of bitterness and resentment that seemed to be firmly lodged somewhere between his throat and his heart, and listened with half an ear to Will who rambled on about time travelling and visitors from the future. I'm leaving Riverport, he thought, watching that obsessed gleam in his brother's eyes. I'm leaving and I mean it this time. For real. I'm leaving and never coming back.

o O o

I'M LEAVING RIVERPORT and I'm never coming back... I'm leaving Riverport and I'm never coming back... I'm leaving... He repeated the words over and over like a mantra as he waited for Detective Mahoney and his partner to leave Will's workshop. The crime-scene, he thought with a sick sort of sinking feeling churning in his guts.

"Time machine?" The man said, shaking his head. "And here I thought I'd heard it all." He was built like a quarterback with hands the size of toilet-lids, and Jack really didn't want to end up in an interrogation room down at the station, getting a close up look at the guy's face.

"Joyce claims the guy that shot him is from the future."

"Jesus... What the hell are they smoking these days?" The two detectives disappeared behind the corner of the building, presumably heading back to their car, and Jack never got to hear them finish the conversation, but he had a pretty good guess that the word 'crazy' would come up a lot.

He waited for another minute, minute and a half, before pulling up the hood of the black sweater he had on, tugging it down so it shadowed his face, then he jogged across the street, keeping his head down, avoiding the circles of light painted by the street-lamps.

A note on the door informed him that this was an active crime-scene and any trespassing would result in both fines and jail-time, and for those who couldn't, or wasn't bothered with reading, there was the official yellow police-tape as seen in countless TV-shows and movies.

Jack used the key Will had given him, unlocked the door and slipped inside.

The maglite cut through the shadows, playing over turned off computer screens and what looked like stacks of advanced control panels mixed with servers. Beyond that the large structure of Will's machine rose with the scaffolding circling the geometrical sphere and cabling snaking across the floor.

Having ignored the thing on his previous visits, Jack curiously moved a little closer, really seeing it for the first time. Ringed by what looked like a maintenance walkway, was the octagonal sphere that gleamed dully in the light from the maglite. Each face of it was jacked and wired with what looked like a couple of tons worth of heavy-gauge cables that poured down to snake across the concrete floor before it got tangled up in the scaffolding that encircled the sphere.

Had Will really managed to build all this by himself? Jack knew his brother had poured every dime he had into the project, using up what had been left of his grant, the money he had inherited from their parents, and even taken loans and a second mortgage on their house, which had forced Jack to work his way trough High School, often holding down several jobs in order to stay on top of the payments so they wouldn't end up losing their home.

He had come to hate the machine, and Will's obsession with it. But now, for the first time, he found himself wondering what if... What if Will was right and the thing really was a time machine? What if they could go back and prevent the accident that had taken their parents life? What if...

A metallic clank of something being knocked over made him turn around. "Hello? Anyone there?" His voice echoed in the following silence. Then something flickered in the corner of his eye and he spun, raising the flashlight, hoping to blind whoever it was that was sneaking up on him.

But it wasn't one of the homeless winos who hung out under the bridge, or some would be thief hoping to find something worth stealing, instead he came face to face with a thing that made him question his sanity: A swarm of those fractured shards he and Paul had seen seemed to assemble before his eyes, taking on the shape of a human. Jack gasped and nearly dropped the maglite as the shards stitched together, creating the fractured image of a man. He caught a glimpse of luminous dark skin, of keen eyes, and for a second it looked like the man, or whatever it was, smiled. Then an arm shot out from the swarming shards, as solid as Jack's own, and grabbed for him.

"F-fuck..." Jack scrambled back, stumbled on one of the cables and fell, hitting the floor hard enough that the wind was knocked out of him. The flashlight rolled from his limp fingers, sending the light all over the place.

Struggling to fill his aching lungs, Jack got staccato glimpses of the fractured man closing the distance between them in a couple of strides. Then he materialized.

"Well hello, Jack." His voice was a rich alpha-wave hum.

"Who the fuck are you?" Jack wheezed the words out.

"You don't know me yet", the man said, crouching in front of them, bringing them at eye-level. "But one day, not so far from now, you and I will stand on opposite sides in a war. A war you inevitably will lose."

Jack gulped down some air. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"The future, Jack. Now, tell me where your brother's laptop is."

"Fu-" The man grabbed him by the throat and squeezed, effectively cutting off his air-supply.

"I think we've already established that", the man said in a calm, even tone of voice. "I need what's on that laptop, and I need it now. Time is, after all, precious."

Jack trashed and squirmed in the man's vice-like grip like a fish caught on a hook. His head was pounding, his lungs burning with a fierce and desperate need to breathe. The lack of oxygen was eating away at his senses.

"B-bastard..." He managed, clawing at the hand squeezing his throat. That red light he had noticed when entering the warehouse and finding Will shot was back, pulsating in time with his racing heart. He was vaguely aware of reality having shattered again, or perhaps it was time itself. Jack looked into the man's face. He hadn't broken a sweat or changed expression. As calmly as if he was simply adjusting a tie, he was slowly squeezing the life out of him.

Time... Jack thought inside a quickly thickening fog, dimly aware of the rush of his own blood filling his ears. This is all the time I got and I wasted it... The world seemed to darken around him, his eyes swimming with shadows.

The next thing he knew a flash went off, and something tore the man away from him. Jack sucked in air in great, painful gulps, his head spinning. Around him those fractured pieces of reality reflected light and movement; crazy glimpses of two men exchanging blows Van Damme style.

Jack struggled to stay conscious. He pushed himself up on his hands and knees and started to crawl away, wanting to get out of the blast-zone. Behind him that wild, impossible dance continued, then something grabbed him and hoisted him up off the floor. His head spun with vertigo. Then he was outside, as if God had taken a pair of scissors and simply cut out the thirty seconds or so it must have taken to cross the empty space between the machine, the raised dais that was Will's HQ with its setup of computers and control panels, and the door leading out of the warehouse.

The icy wind suddenly hitting him was a shock to his senses, and it cleared his head a little. He realised that someone was half-carrying half-dragging him along and he craned his head, caught a glimpse of a familiar profile under a mop of dark hair.

"Paul...?"

The world tilted again and the vertigo increased until he felt like he was on a roller-coaster, flying through the cold, velvety darkness. He could hear a voice, both rough and soft, speaking to him: "C'mon, Jacks... keep breathing... Stay with me..." Then the dazzling, cold darkness swallowed everything, pulling him with it, and he was more than happy to let it.

* * *

A/N: So, what do you think of the story so far? I'm going to try to get the next chapter up later this week, and with a little bit of luck I might just be able to pull it off. :)


	3. Chapter 3

Quantum Break is a story of branching timelines, of choices and the impact those choices have on the story and the characters within it. Drawing inspiration from that, and from the idea of multi-verses, I have created my own alternate time line. I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: Quantum Break belongs to Remedy. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

ABANDONED BUILDING, WESTMORELAND ST, 8 FEBRUARY 2010. RIVERPORT MASSACHUSETTS

JACK CAME TO with a groan. "What the fuck happened...?" He was semi-horizontal, head and shoulders propped up against a wall with his legs and back on a cold floor, and wherever he was it smelled strongly of damp, mildew and urine. Peeling his eyes open, he pushed himself up, and immediately clutched his head when it exploded with pain. It felt like every hangover he had ever suffered had come back to haunt him all at once.

"Easy there." An arm came around his shoulders, steadying him. "Take these. It's aspirin." Two pills were pressed into his hand and he took them, wincing at the bitter taste as he swallowed them down.

Jack tried opening his eyes again, taking in his surroundings. It was dark. And he was sitting in a room that could only be described as derelict. Tough run down was a good second choice, and so was unhygienic, he thought, noticing the used condoms scattered across the naked wooden floorboards. The walls were covered in peeling paint and colourful graffiti. His gaze fastened on the man sitting in front of him, his legs pulled up, arms resting on the knees. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Paul's face was almost completely hidden in shadow. Yellow light from a street-lamp outside spilled in through the broken window, illuminating the tip of his nose, his lips and chin, giving away his identity. Then Jack noticed the heavy time piece gleaming on his friend's wrist. "Is that a Rolex?"

Paul raised his hand a little and the loose wristband jingled softly. "First thing I bought when I started making big money."

Nothing in that sentence made any sense. "You only left two days ago."

"New York..." There was a sad smile in Paul's voice. "I hated it. All I could think of was you, sitting there in the hospital with Will's blood all over your jeans and Tee and that too old look in your eyes, telling me I had to go, that I couldn't give up my future..." A chuckle, painfully close to a sob followed the statement. "You should have told me to stay, Jack, then maybe we wouldn't be in this mess."

Jack just stared at him. "Look, I'm trying to keep my shit together here, but the next words coming out of your mouth better make sense or I'll-" He trailed off as Paul shifted his position a little and the light fell over his face. Jack took in the lines furrowing his friend's brow, the dark semi-circles beneath his eyes, neither of which had been there the last time he'd set eyes on him, which had been about forty-eight hours ago. "What the hell's happened to you? You look like shit."

Paul gave him a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Time happened. I'm twenty-six, Jack, and from what I can tell, I have been for a long, long time. I'm me, but the me I'll be in 2016." The look Jack gave him was filled with such dumbfound confusion that it would have been funny under different circumstances. "You don't believe me? I can prove it in..." He held up his arm and studied the face of the ridiculously expensive watch. "Three. Two. One."

Jack jumped when his cellphone started vibrating in his pocket, chiming out the first chords of AC/DC's Back In Black.

"You should answer that", Paul said.

Jack stared at him, then hit the green button and pressed the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Jack!" Paul's voice sounded on the other end of the line. "I've been trying to reach you for hours! Is everything okay? Is Will okay?"

Jack stared at Paul sitting in front of him, making go-on-gestures with his hand. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, Will's fine. We're both fine. Huh... Where... Where are you?" He asked, acutely aware that he most likely sounded like he'd suffered a stroke or something.

"What do you mean 'where am I'?" Paul on the phone asked. "I'm in New York because you told me to go."

"I remember this", the Paul who was sitting in front of him mumbled. "God, I wanted so badly to throw myself on the next plane back to Riverport. Back to you."

"I..." Jack felt like he had awoken in some strange alternate reality, or maybe an episode of Night Springs. His brain simply refused to put the pieces together. "Umm..."

"What's going on?" Paul asked him through the phone. "You don't sound like yourself, Jack. You sure you're okay?"

Jack rubbed a hand over his short cropped hair. "Yeah, I'm just tired, that's all."

"Tell me you miss me", the Paul who was sitting in front of him said softly. "Tell me you wished I was here, or you wished you could have come with me..." At the same time he could hear Paul on the other end of the line saying something about Leland-Angus.

"A-are you okay?" He stuttered. "I mean, how is it? The internship... and everything?"

"Yeah, it's great." But Jack could hear the hollow tone in his voice. Did I notice it because Paul... the Paul sitting here pointed it out to me, or would I have heard it anyway? Jack thought, feeling as if he was falling down a rabbit hole. He glanced at the man and felt his ears grow hot.

"I... umm... I miss you..." He whispered into the cellphone."

"You... you do?" An almost delicate tone had snuck into his friend's voice, making him sound young and vulnerable. "I miss you too, Jack. And I will come back to Riverport. To you."

"I know..." Jack ducked his head, his face feeling hot enough you could fry eggs on it. He glanced at the Paul sitting across from him. "I... I gotta go..."

"Yeah, me too. It was good to hear your voice", Paul on the phone said. "Talk to you soon, Jacks." There was a quiet click as the call was disconnected, and Jack was alone with the Paul who gave him a little smile.

Jack's hand trembled as he lowered the phone. "What the HELL is going on?"

"Do you want the short version or the long version?"

"I want the one that makes sense!"

Paul leaned forward, trying to put his hand on Jack's knee but he pulled away. Paul took a deep breath and met those defiant blue eyes. "Will's time machine works, Jack."

Jack wanted to laugh at the claim, but he had just had a conversation with his best friend who was in New York, while that same friend was sitting in front of him, giving suggestions and keeping up a running commentary.

"In 2016, I'll be the project director of a cutting-edge physics research project. It is largely based on your brother's work. Monarch-"

"You mean that high-tech security firm that's been buying up buildings and companies all over town?" Jack asked. "What do they have to do with this?"

"You'll know soon enough", Paul said. "For now, all you need to know is that what we did... what we will do, I mean, will initiate a series of events that leads to the end of time. Literally. The End of Time."

"I don't understand..." Jack said a little weakly, struggling to make heads and tails of what Paul was telling him and coming up empty.

"In 2016, I'll e-mail you and talk you into coming back to Riverport, partially because Will's gone off the deep end again, but mostly because I needed you there beside me when I started the machine... Will start it, I mean", he corrected.

"So, you want me to stay away? To not come back?"

Paul shook his head. "I tried that. The past is set. No matter how many times I go back and try to change what happened that damned night, what I did, I can't. The result is always the same..."

"I don't understand..." Jack started again feeling like a broken record.

"I need you to help me find Will's laptop before Hatch does."

"What's so important about the laptop?"

"It's what's on it that's important", Paul explained. "Your brother theorised that something could go wrong, that using the machine could cause a fracture, and he took precautions to prevent it. He called it the Countermeasure. It is our only chance of fixing what is broken, and for some reason Hatch wants it destroyed. He wants time to end."

"I don't understand..."

Paul gave him an annoyed frown. "I remember you being smarter than this. And more focused."

Anger rose inside Jack like a hot wave. "Some fucking freak with super powers just tried to strangle me! Then you show up claiming your from the fucking future! I'd say I'm pretty fucking focused under the circumstances!"

"Alright, calm down..." Paul raised his hand in a pacifying manner. "No need to yell."

Jack was about to tell him that no, he wasn't going to calm the fuck down, when Paul's hand started to flicker _._

"Fuck!" He scrambled back as those weird shards or fragments or whatever the hell they were, started swarming and light and air bent around Paul. "You're like _him_!"

"Jack..." Paul started, then he seemed to crumble in on himself, curling up, wrapping his arms around himself. "It... it hurts..." His face became a twisted mask of agony as he screamed, his voice throwing off an almost metallic sound. Reality shifted and changed as all the possible outcomes of this situations bloomed before his eyes; parallel timelines that in this frozen moment existed side by side.

"Paul!" Jack reached for his friend, reacting instinctively with that need to help that seemed to be a part of his genetic makeup. Paul clung to him, using Jack to centre himself, to focus his existence onto this single timeline, and slowly the stutter faded and he became just one entity again. Inside his head that... _thing_ roared, clawing at his sanity, wanting to crush it so it could take over.

He took a deep laboured breath, and then another, filling his lungs with cold air and the stench of mildew and urine.

"What the hell was that?" Jack demanded, his voice sharp with fear.

"I'm not sure", Paul whispered hoarsely. "But it's getting worse..."

"We need to get you to a hospital-"

"No..." Paul pulled away. "There isn't any time." He climbed unsteadily to his feet. "Monarch is coming." He gritted his teeth, leaning heavily against the wall as the dank room spun around him. "We need to get out of here before they find us. I'll answer as many of your questions as I can once we're safe."

Not arguing about the running away from the people with badges part, Jack wasn't about to let him get off that easily. "So, why exactly is Monarch after you?"

"Because Monarch is Martin Hatch's company. Or at least that's what everybody thinks." Paul pushed away from the wall and started to make his way to the door, his strength returning a little at the time. "To the world, he's the CEO of Monarch but there is someone else running the company, someone who stays in the shadows."

"Who?"

Paul turned, his gaze meeting Jack's. "I think it's me. Or a version of me. The me I will become when I go back to 2016. And if I don't have control over the Countermeasure when the fracture happens, Hatch wins and all is lost."

Jack followed, staying close, ready to catch him if he should have another episode. "If this Countermeasure-thing is based on Will's work, why don't you just ask him to help you? The Will in 2016, I mean?"

"I can't", Paul mumbled.

"Why not?"

"It's... complicated."

Jack gave the old mattress someone had used to block the stairs with a shove and it fell down it, making a slow, almost majestic somersault on the way before it landed on the floor with a dull thud, sending up a cloud of dust. "More complicated than an old version of you showing up and claiming that you're from the future?"

Paul glanced at him. "I'm only twenty-six."

"You look older."

A small smile touched his lips. "Fuck you too, Jack."

Jack flashed him a grin over his shoulder. "C'mon, Moneybags, let's get the hell out of here. You owe me a lot of straight answers."

* * *

A/N: I hope you like the story so far. I'll try to get the next chapter up before Christmas. Reviews and comments are welcome. Cheers!


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